


Stars

by junior_writes



Series: Snowbaz <3 [3]
Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Date Night, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I cried while writing this, M/M, One-Shot, Stars, pure fluff, starlight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-11
Updated: 2019-12-11
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:00:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21757939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/junior_writes/pseuds/junior_writes
Summary: Baz takes Simon on a surprise date to look at the stars.
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Series: Snowbaz <3 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1535465
Comments: 3
Kudos: 36





	Stars

“Baz, we’ve been walking for thirty minutes now, where are we going?” I ask, short of breath after hiking uphill for half an hour. Baz is leading, about three feet ahead of me, his hand holding mine. We’ve been walking through the depths of Newton Park for quite a bit, and Baz has been refusing to tell me where we’re going since we left our flat. 

“Relax, Snow, we’re almost there,” He explains, looking back at me, a smirk forming in the corner of his mouth. The dim sun is shining through the trees, the sunset giving him a faint golden aura. He looks like a statue of greek god, the kind you’d see in a museum. 

“But, Baz, I’m tired, and my feet hurt, I have like three mosquito bites now, and I’m pretty sure I stepped in a puddle, and now my sock is wet.” I let go of his hand to scratch my arm, feeling the slight bump left by a mosquito. I lean forward a bit, resting my hands on my thighs, taking in a deep breath.

“Crowley, Simon, you need to work out more,” Baz claims, eyeing me from a few meters ahead. “One would think the mighty Chosen One would be in shape.”

“Shut up, I got all my exercise from fighting dark creatures, I haven’t had to do that in years.”

Baz raises an eyebrow, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. “Would Princess Simon like me to carry him up the rest of the hill?” 

I stand up straight, taking advantage of his joke. “Yes, please,” I respond with a smile resembling an eager child’s. Baz lets out a light chuckle while shaking his head. He reaches out and takes my hand again, continuing up the mountain. The sun is almost gone entirely, the last line of purple creeping down the hill. After about fifteen minutes, we reach the top of the hill, a clearing with no trees within a hundred-foot diameter. Baz stops in front of me, putting one arm out, presenting what’s in front of him. 

“This, Simon, is why I had you hike up that  _ horrid  _ mountain,” he says, a drop of sarcasm in his voice. A couple feet in front of us, there’s a blanket set right in the center of the clearing, a few pillows neatly arranged on it, the glow of the moon lighting up the spot. On the blanket there’s a basket and an ice bucket, a bottle of champagne poking out from the rim. Baz grabs my hand and leads me towards the blanket, proceeding to sit us down on the blanket.

“Baz, what is this?” I ask him as he places my hands on his lap. He looks up at me, an endearing smile forming on his face, adoration showing in his eyes. 

“I thought we were due for a date. We haven’t had one in a while. I wanted to take advantage of our evening off.” He starts to unpack what’s in the basket, pulling out wrapped sandwiches and seasoned chips. We sit there, basking in the moonlight, a summer night breeze flowing over us. Baz tells me about his day, about how his teacher’s assistant job makes him wish he had stayed at LSE, even though economics is the last thing he actually wants to study. He says it’s the students that drive him insane, but he knows its worth the job Headmistress Bunce already offered him at Watford. I tell him about my day, about how the kids at the orphanage like to call me Snowman instead of Mr. Snow, or even Simon. We sit there and we talk between sandwiches and chips and chilled champagne, which I think is a bit posh for the casual date Baz planned, but Baz says that no date is complete without a bottle of champagne. 

After about an hour and a half of talking, Baz takes the last sip of his champagne and proceeds to lay down on the blanket, placing one of the pillows under his head. He tugs on my arm, signaling me to do the same. 

“When was the last time we looked at the stars?” He asks me, a pensive look across his face. I smile, a goofy smile because I can’t help how much I love him, and also because I know the exact answer to his question.

“Two months ago, when we were at Bexhill Beach, but we couldn’t enjoy them because we got caught on the beach after hours.”

“Right.” He smiles, taking my hand in his and bringing it up to his lips, placing a gentle kiss on the back of my hand. He rests our intertwined hands on his stomach, gently rubbing my hand with his free hand. “My mother used to show me the stars. She and I would sit on the balcony from her room at the house in Hampshire, me on her lap, her pointing out stars and constellations, telling me stories about each constellation, also making up some stories of her own.” He pauses, briefly closing his eyes taking a deep breath before he continues, “She knew everything there is to be known about stars, from the science behind them to years and years of folklore from different cultures.”

I let go of his hand in order to press myself up against him, my hand resting on his chest, his faint heartbeat pulsing under my fingertips. I lay my head on his shoulder, placing a kiss on his neck, the spot I know makes him weak (haha, ironic, I know). He continues on, pointing at different stars and clusters of light in the night sky, telling me greek names and stories passed down from generation to generation. And while I’d like to look at the stars, I can’t, because Baz looks so beautiful like this, the moonlight enhancing his pale skin, the glimmer in his eye he gets when he talks about something he cares about. He’ll end a statement with a question, to make sure I’m not asleep or something, but all I can do is nod and hum in response, because I’m not paying attention to the stars, I’m paying attention to the love of my life. 

He ends his stories, and now the two of us are laying here quietly, pressed up against each other, Baz rubbing circles on my back, me with my eyes closed, spelling out  _ I love you  _ with my finger on his chest.

Baz breaks the silence, letting out a deep breath. “Simon?”

“Yes, love?”

“Have I ever told you that the stars make me think of you? They make me think of your eyes, the way they sparkle when you look at something you like, like a sour cherry scone or a puppy walking across the street, or, my favorite, when you look at me. The stars remind me of your face, how they’re splattered all across the night sky, just like your beautiful freckles. Your freckles and the stars; they’re the same. They’re the same in the way that they’re all different sizes, and how some shine brighter than others, the way your freckles vary in shades. When I look at the stars, I think of your smile. I think of how that beautiful smile is enough to light up an entire room, of how it sparkles. Crowley, Simon, it’s like you actually have that little glimmer they put on blokes in movies when they smile, cheesy sound effect and everything. The night sky makes me think of how there are so many endless possibilities with you. I think of our future together, of how I want to spend every waking moment with you. Because I love you, like a lot, and I can’t imagine a life without you, the same way I can’t imagine a night without stars.”

I prop myself up on one shoulder, looking down at him, seeing the reflection of the moon in his deep, grey eyes. He looks at me up and down, a slight hint of doubt forming on his eyebrows, like he’s opened himself up to me and I’ll think he’s weird or something. I try to say something, something to reassure him that I love him too, that being with him makes me the happiest I’ve ever been, that every day with him is an adventure, one I always look forward and hope it never ends. But I can’t, because I’m terrible with words, and I’ll never be as eloquent as Baz is. So I kiss him instead, I kiss him with the passion of a thousand suns. I kiss him like I’ve never kissed him before, or like I’ll never kiss him again. I whisper “I love you” into his mouth multiple times, because I do, and I like to make sure he knows that. 

**Author's Note:**

> And here I am, crying, because I'm a hopeless romantic who will never experience something like this but thats okay idontcarewhateveritsfine. 
> 
> I feel like I can only write dialogue. Like I planned out only the dialogue in my head first, but after I put it on paper, I couldn't add anything else. But hey, I tried my best and I think it came out pretty good. 
> 
> Anywho, I hope y'all enjoyed it. I enjoyed it. I write my best work while I'm supposed to do something else, so here I am, starting it when I'm supposed to be asleep and finishing it and posting it during english class.
> 
> Have an amazing day!


End file.
